As a musician, artist, contemplative, theologian, and cultural explorer, I find a strange joy in grappling with the larger questions about life and existence. To me, this is the heart and soul of communications — exploring the dynamics of what it means to be human, how we connect and relate with one another, how we cultivate love and growth, and how we perceive ourselves in relation to the wider universe or the Divine. My reflections here are an attempt to capture moments of life — through a canvas of words, songs, images, and reflections — that I hope bring a deeper meaning into focus.
In this season as we encounter shorter days and longer shadows, as the sun dips lower on the horizon, as we celebrate Halloween, Dia de los Muertos, All Saints Day and All Souls Day, in this season of remembrance, we may find ourselves surrounded by ghosts. Not just the ghosts of our ancestors, but the ghosts of ourselves, our lived experiences, our communities, our country.
This month as we celebrate Pride Month and embrace the dignity and freedom of expression of our LGBTQ+ brothers and sisters, this month when we mourn the death of George Floyd and so many other black people who have suffered and died under the edifice of white supremacy, this time in history when we are emerging from our pandemic hideouts and learning to see the world anew, how might we truly SEE the world anew?
I recently discovered that Rachel Carson began her life’s work as, not as a scientist, but as a writer and poet. And this made me love her even more. Like me, she had been so captivated by the sea and the bird songs and every magical object of nature in between that she couldn’t imagine putting words to what she bore witness to without using lush, vivid language, full of color.
Earlier this week on one of those sunny afternoons, I found myself craving a walk outdoors in this very cemetery as I tried to make sense of a world gone sideways. Amid the news of death and sickness all around me, the economic plunges, canceled meetings and events, schools closures, emptier-than-usual stores and cafes, and people keeping plenty of “social distance” from one another in an effort to stem the spread of COVID19, I took a silent walk among the dead.